Chapter 66 Intermission 13

The chaos on the forums continued for two days. Some people had even fallen into a special relations.h.i.+p, well, it would be more accurate to call it a grudge.

What kind of people would have the easiest time turning a grudge into permanent hatred? Petty people, of course.

Therefore, even before the open beta started, many petty one-vs-one battles were called on the forums as they prepared to have a life or death match in the Killing Game mode. Of course, to partic.i.p.ate in this mode, they had to reach at least level fifteen first, and both parties had to be confident that they would win, and only then would the fight be a reality.

After all, the thing that petty people were most afraid of was to lose face since that was the only thing they had. They were horrible losers, but they were even worse winners; that was why they were called petty.

It was the hardest thing to snag a victory from a petty person because they would come up with multiple reasons to justify their loss like 'you had a longer playing time', 'your level is higher than mine', 'your equipment is better than mine', and of course the cla.s.sics—'you got lucky' and 'my keyboard wasn't working'.

It was easy to beat a gentleman, but to beat a petty person, you needed to have the patience of a saint and be prepared to bring more than ten witnesses with you. It was best to record the whole match; that was the only way to get them to admit their defeat and to get them to hate you forever.

For the past two days, Feng Bujue did not care so much about the game. He ate noodles for two days and focused on his writing, finally finis.h.i.+ng the ma.n.u.script for the month. Other than that, Arthas also finally understood that the litter box was the toilet.

On Tuesday morning, Thriller Paradise reopened its server, and this time, it was for the open beta. Feng Bujue did not log into the game immediately, and it was naturally because the time of the server opening overlapped with his sleeping time. He had spent some actual effort to readjust his biological clock, and he was not going to mess with it again. After all, waking up at midnight and going to bed at 4 am could help him save the cost of a meal.

At 1:30 pm, after filling Arthas' bowl with food, cleaning its litter box, and serving this new emperor that moved in with Feng Bujue, the latter got into the gaming hub. He skipped showing all the announcements that he saw. After arriving at the log-in lobby, Feng Bujue realized that nothing much had changed. He clicked on the touch screen to inspect his friend list; all four names inside it were grayed out, meaning that they were offline.

"So… I am the only one who is so free…" Feng Bujue used a lazy tone to comment self-deprecatingly. Even though nothing new was added to the menu interface, there were some quality of life updates. It became smoother and more presentable. Other than that, the in-game FAQ had also become more complete. The question that Feng Bujue asked before, "Which type of item will not be shown during rating review after they were taken out of a scenario?" could now be searched through the FAQ. Seeing that clause, Feng Bujue thought about cleaning up his inventory.

Currently, his inventory's volume was 7/10, including Mario's Wrench, Eyes of Hostility, a kitchen knife, a baseball bat, an M1911A1 Pistol, Echo Armor, and a bag of garlic.

The Serum for Virus Z was unable to leave the scenario, so during the previous scenario, on the way back to the gun store from the Allerbmu building, Feng Bujue had removed the serum from his inventory. At the time, he and Xiao Tan had taken the serum, and the two GMs had a pa.s.sive skill that made them immune to all infections that could be found in all low-level scenarios. So, the serum was useless.

His flashlight was broken when he was surrounded by the zombies at the stadium. Thankfully, he had an extra one in his log-in lobby. Feng Bujue felt like he would not have any use for the bag of garlic in the future, and it was not rare by any means, so he destroyed it using the function given by the game. The Winchester and its ammo had been given to Xiao Tan; the M1911A1 Pistol was fully loaded, but Feng Bujue did not possess additional ammo. After removing the garlic and replacing it with the flashlight, the inventory was still 7/10.

After arranging his inventory, Feng Bujue turned around to head to the metallic room to obtain the additional reward from a good terror rating when he heard the system say, "Please select the area that you're going to."

After that notification was given, on the side of the elevator door, in a s.p.a.ce that was originally empty, the stream of data coagulated to form a rectangular control panel. Five b.u.t.tons the size of a fist materialized on it, and they were all marked with words. They were respectively: Storage, Conference Room, Market, Thriller Box, and Do Not Press This.

Feng Bujue's gaze was naturally attracted to the last b.u.t.ton.

"Hmm… what is the meaning of this?" His expression was curious. "If you don't want people to press it, why did you create it? Telling people not to press it will only make people have a bigger urge to press it…"

He hesitated for a few seconds before he could not resist the temptation anymore. He reached out to press it, and the b.u.t.ton lit up for a second when it was pressed, and then… nothing happened.

Feng Bujue waited thirty seconds and looked around, but still, nothing happened. He could not help but grumble, "What is this… some kind of joke?"

"He he he… So, he has pressed it, huh?" Wicked laughter followed the words and came surprisingly from behind Feng Bujue. He turned to look and saw a man in a corner a few steps away from him. The man was a Caucasian around twenty, wearing a black suit. His body was slight, and his skin incredibly pale. He had short hair and wore spectacles with a white sheen on his lenses. One had to admit that even though he lacked a sense of high standard, the man was, objectively speaking, quite handsome.

"Er… Brother, how did you get in here?" Feng Bujue asked.

"He he…" The man snapped his fingers, and the 'Do Not Press This' b.u.t.ton disappeared in a burst of data. "It's just moving between a s.p.a.ce inside a game, how hard can that be? He he he…"

He seemed like to couple his sentences with this strange and wicked laugh.

"Are you… An NPC? A GM?" Feng Bujue was curious. "Wait… you can't be an NPC because I'm not in a scenario… Hmm… In the open beta, does everyone gain an AI that fulfills the role of a personal a.s.sistant in their log-in lobby? But that doesn't seem right! Shouldn't an NPC like that be a woman dressed in a provocative outfit‽"

"You wish." The man laughed. "He he he… Just treat me as a GM, but you will not be able to get an official statement from the company about me. They might even tell you that I am not someone who should even exist."

Hearing that, Feng Bujue's expression s.h.i.+fted slightly, and he asked in a serious tone, "Are you an Anomaly?"

"Ha ha ha…" The man guffawed as he shook his head. "Ha ha… Anomaly… They're at least two dimensions lower than I am."

He nudged his spectacles and said, "You can call me Woody, W O O D Y…"

"Wait a minute." Feng Bujue interrupted him. "Who are you? What do you want from me? Was the b.u.t.ton earlier a prank?"

"He he… That b.u.t.ton was merely a joke that is quite meaningless," Woody replied. "I came to you because I have a question for you."

"Let me get this straight… Are you asking me this question as a representative of Dream Inc., or is it out of personal interest?" Feng Bujue kept getting this sense of eccentricity from the man before him. The man was able to appear in his log-in lobby and manipulate the environment, so there was an eighty percent chance that he was a GM, but what he said contradicted that. What did he mean by 'Just treat me as a GM' and 'They're at least two dimensions lower than I am'? How did he even come up with the calculation to know that?

"I came from h.e.l.l, and due to my job, I need to confirm some questions with you." The white light on Woody's gla.s.ses did not waver, and that made it difficult to tell his expression.

"What is wrong with this company's GMs? Everyone is so d.a.m.n mental…" Feng Bujue was intended reminded of Pan Feng and Hwa Xiong.

"As someone with a mental disability, do you have the right to call me mental?" Woody smirked.

Feng Bujue thought internally, So… the company has found out. Then again, it's to be expected… After all, I've cleared all the scenarios with a 0 Terror Points rating, so the system will have flagged me a long time ago. Then… is this man's job to specifically deal with players who are suspected of cheating?

"He he… Sure, you can see it that way if it makes you more comfortable." Woody smiled wickedly.

"Huh?" Feng Bujue was startled. "What?"

No way? He can read my mind?

Woody did not answer, only chuckling. "He he he… First, I want to ask, do you believe in Jesus?"

Feng Bujue knew a thing or two about hoaxes like supposed mind-readers that scammed others, so he did not trust what Woody said fully. He merely thought that the man was playing mind tricks on him. Hearing Woody's question, he replied, "I have more faith in science."

"He he he… Very good." Woody smiled. "That's all of my questions."

"Hey… Brother, what is going on? Is this a prank? Is the system recording all this?" Feng Bujue asked.

"I don't need you to tell me about the images and voices that already exist in your mind because I consumed and digested them one minute ago," Woody said. "I only needed to confirm that."

Feng Bujue gave Woody a side-eye. He moved back two steps, saying, "Er… Big brother Woody, where did you say you came from earlier?"

"Where I'm from is where you're going, he he he…" Woody maintained his wretched laugh. "Okay, I'm leaving. I think you'll be very angry when we meet again next time, but such is lif. Plus, don't you think anger is more useful than despair?"

"Wait, you…" Feng Bujue was confused by this man. Everything that he had said and done was a complete mystery.

"Mortal, you are outstanding and truly interesting. You're a suitable candidate. I'm prepared to place my bet on you… Hmm… I think I shall place thirty pieces of Judas' Silver as my bet, so… he he he… don't disappoint me." Woody moved his shoulders up and down as he laughed. Then, he turned and disappeared into the mirror mounted on the elevator door.

After Woody entered the mirror, his body started to twist. His shape changed into a dark demonic shape in that moment. The image was hard to put into words. If the eyes were the windows to one's soul, the shadow shattered through the window in that movement and tore its way into the human's psychological world.

At that moment, Feng Bujue felt an emotion that should not have existed for the man—fear.

The feeling that he biologically should not be able to feel was seared into his heart like a brand. It was undeniable that the feeling was fear, and it was so acute and intense, a memory that he would never forget.

Staring at the shapeless and shaped demonic shadow, it was like his soul was tightly held in place by a demonic claw, and his soul could be yanked out at any moment and disperse into nothingness.

After an inordinate amount of time, Feng Bujue snapped back to reality. He was still shocked. He lifted his head to look at the clock on the wall and less than ten seconds had pa.s.sed since he last checked the time. He found it difficult to calm down and asked himself, What happened earlier? Was it reality or an illusion? Or… has the shadow in my brain expanded, causing a new symptom to surface?